Midnight Jitters
by Karmadevi
Summary: Future Fic. Creegan comes back from a run to find a pissed off Branca waiting for him.


**Midnight Jitters**

* * *

AN: I wrote this fic a year ago. I just joined here, so I thought I'd add it to our little collection. I hope you like it.

* * *

He unlocked the front door and pushed it open gently, turning the key back and trying to get it out of the lock as quietly as possible.

"Hey."

His head came up abruptly at the unexpected sound and he found Susan waiting in the lighted kitchen. His body relaxed as he realized there was no need for stealth mode.

"Hey," he returned, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him as he studied her out of the corner of his eye.

She was sitting at the kitchen table with one leg curled up beneath her. She was wearing her glasses, her hair was up in a clip and she was wearing the tank top and loose pants she used as pajamas, which was not how he'd left her in bed an hour ago. Of greater concern was the almost-empty carton of leftover Chinese food and the fork in her hands. He wanted to believe it was just a craving, but he knew from experience that it was too early for that. Which meant that she'd been eating because she was angry and there was nothing else to do. That did not bode well for him.

"Where have you been?" she asked, and he winced at her cool tone. It was the professional voice he'd spent the first six months they were partners trying to goad her out of. And she wouldn't look at him, still poking around in the white carton absently. At least the motion wasn't violent, or even carefully controlled.

"Susan," he began. He kept his body language deliberately casual, tossing his keys onto the table by the door and heading toward her.

She cut off whatever excuse he'd been about to make. "You promised me you wouldn't do this to me anymore, David." She tilted her head to the side to watch him, and he could see the disappointment in her eyes as he got closer. It stung.

He dropped his head. For a man who wasn't capable of feeling shame, what he felt seemed remarkably close to the way he remembered it.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just went for a run," he explained, coming to a stop next to her.

He braced himself on the back of her chair and leaned down to drop a kiss on her cheek. The chaste gesture did nothing to ease the need in him, the intense surge of protectiveness that had washed over him the second he saw her sitting there looking very young and sad. She was so beautiful, so precious to him. He wanted to feel her lips under his, wanted to drink her in and keep her safe inside him, but he knew she wouldn't let him that close right now. Reminding himself that there was a right and wrong time to kiss his wife—and this definitely fell into the latter category—he forced himself to straighten.

"I couldn't sleep and I needed to clear my head," he finished.

She nodded once in acknowledgement of his explanation, but her expression didn't change. Neither did her gaze leave the Kung Pao chicken she was sorting through. She hadn't actually eaten anything since he'd come in.

"Fine. So why didn't you tell me before you left? Or leave a note? Or take your cellphone?" She looked up at him then, slightly accusing, and they both knew she had him with that last one.

Suddenly remembering how tired he'd been when he got home, he dropped to a seat on the floor and started untying his shoelaces.

"You were asleep when I left and I didn't want to wake you. You haven't been sleeping well lately. I thought I'd be home before you even noticed I was gone."

"You thought wrong," she said pointedly, half turning in her chair to see him, but she blushed faintly and avoided eye contact. She'd thought she'd managed to keep her trouble sleeping from him.

He smirked at her and threw a shoe over his shoulder.

"What about your cellphone, David?" She deflected the attention back to him, voice still brisk and professional. At least she hadn't reverted to calling him by his—_their_—last name. "You always keep it with you."

The truth was, he'd been in such a hurry to get out and run, he'd forgotten all about his cell phone. He needed time to get his head straight. The news that Susan was pregnant had been running around in his head all night. It seemed like it had taken a lifetime for their relationship to progress beyond partnership and unspoken feelings. Even longer for it be normal enough that they could talk about marriage, let alone actually go through with a wedding. Even now, he had panic attacks and had to pinch himself sometimes to make sure that he wasn't still in the psych ward and this wasn't all just an elaborate delusion he'd created. That Susan wasn't just an amazing figment of his imagination. And now that he knew about the baby….

He couldn't stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do right this time around. Of course, that was the same thing he'd thought last time, with Lily. Then, it had been simple things, like not missing doctor's appointments or play dates and getting home earlier from the office. And all he had to show for it now were bigger mistakes, with more to make up for. But they did say that the third time was the charm…. And wasn't Cyril always going on about the significance of threes?

Something occurred to him before he could answer her question.

"Did Enright call?" he asked anxiously, patting himself down out of habit and then glancing around the kitchen for the wayward cell. "Is that why you're awake?" She'd been sound asleep when he'd left, which is why he hadn't worried about worrying her. Susan wasn't usually a light sleeper.

He'd already leapt to his feet to better search the countertop when she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "It's on your nightstand and no one called." Once he'd calmed and sat back down, she added, "Well, except me."

He relaxed when he realized that there wasn't an emergency, but he still didn't know what was bothering Susan. She refused to be distracted, by his change of subject or by the scattered sneakers and socks on the kitchen floor—which usually earned him an exasperated '_David!'_ and the occasional shoe thrown at his head, depending on her mood. The Chinese food had by now been forgotten on the table as she turned her full attention to him, and he felt a flash of alarm over the missing fork for a moment before he realized that she'd just left it in the carton. That she was so focused told him how upset she really was, and he didn't think it was just about him not leaving a note. She was too used to his unpredictability for that.

"Susan, I just needed to clear the pressure." He tried to explain the inexplicable, using the phrase that had become so common between them.

"About the baby," she added quietly, suddenly not meeting his eyes,

He frowned. "Why would you think that?" It was true, of course, but something about her behavior told him she didn't mean it the way he did.

Her gaze flew back to his at his confusion, anger finally sparking. "What was I supposed to think, David? I told you that I was pregnant a few hours ago. You said you were happy, you _seemed_ happy, we even made love. And then you disappeared in the middle of the night for the first time in six months!"

Suddenly the conversation was beginning to make sense and he was startled at the direction it was taking. Getting on his knees, he crawled over to her and reached for her hands, wanting the tactile connection as much as to get her attention. Once he'd trapped her gaze, he spoke.

"Susan, I'm happy about the baby," he told her as calmly and firmly as he could. "You know I am. I love kids and I love you and I can't imagine anything more perfect than having one with you." He waited for his words to absorb, and saw the moment the relief appeared in her eyes. "But this isn't about me, is it? What woke you up, Susan?"

She dropped her gaze. A moment later, she pulled her hands out of his grasp and stood to walk past him. David turned to follow her with his gaze, slipping into the seat she'd just vacated.

Once she'd put some distance between them, she faced him again and admitted, "I'm terrified. I had a dream. About the baby."

"What kind of dream?"

"I—I woke up—Or I thought I woke up—and I could hear the baby crying. So I got up to go to her, but I couldn't find her anywhere. She was screaming, and I kept opening doors, trying to find the nursery, but I couldn't." She was pacing now, hands moving agitatedly as she spoke. "Then I finally found her, and I went to pick her up, but I didn't know how, and she wouldn't stop crying."

He figured he knew where this was going, and she was only getting increasingly worked up over it, so he decided to distract her.

"She?" he questioned.

Susan stopped pacing, sending a startled look his way until the question registered and she flushed. "Oh—I—I don't know, I guess I just assumed. You already have two girls… I don't even know if you want another one. I'd understand if you wanted a boy this time. Not that we get to choose or anything…."

She was rambling. He smiled.

"A girl sounds perfect," he assured her. "So does a boy." He shrugged. "I'm easy."

Standing, he approached her slowly. "Susan, it was just a dream. You're just scared. It's perfectly normal. Hell, I've done this twice and I'm terrified. If I'd slept at all, I probably would have nightmares about it, too."

She didn't look very reassured. "I don't know the first thing about, kids, David. What kind of mother am I going to make?"

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. Literally. He smiled.

"Susan, you're going to make a great mother. You already are. You're great with Samantha and Lily."

She rolled her eyes impatiently and crossed her arms. He could have sworn she was going to stamp her foot. "I love them, David, but it's not the same thing. They live with their mother. I'm like an aunt. I take them to the movies, or shopping, or to Chuck E. Cheese—"

"Wait," David interrupted, distracted. "When did you take the girls to Chuck E. Cheese?" His eyes widened in alarm. "Did you go without me? How could you…? I love Chuck E. Cheese! I love the ball pen. And the pizza! Oh, and Chuckie's band!"

Susan smirked in spite of herself. "That's why I didn't take you. I had my hands full with Sam and Lily."

David grinned. "I would've loved to see you surrounded by all those screaming kids and their obnoxious parents."

She nodded. "That was the other reason I didn't take you."

She didn't need his endless teasing about the way she'd flashed her badge at the other parents and threatened them to watch their kids more closely. A little boy kept throwing balls at Lily in the ballpen, and another tried to steal Sam's tickets. Violence had almost broken out, but the manager had stepped between Susan and the other mother at the last minute.

"I bet you smiled," David accused her, joking. "I can't believe you made me miss that."

"Wait a minute, I smile!" She was indignant now. "I smile all the time!"

"Yeah, but I never see it enough."

As he'd expected, a smile broke across her face and made a mad dash for the other side despite her ruthless attempts to stamp it out.

"See?" He couldn't help needling her a little.

Having lightened the mood, he cupped her elbows and drew her to him. "Listen to me," he said, more seriously. Meeting her gaze, he frowned and paused to lift her glasses and set them on top of her head so he could see her eyes more clearly. Then he started again.

"You're going to be a great mother. You're warm and kind and compassionate and this baby is going to be very lucky to have you. You're naturally comfortable with kids. You were the one who helped me get comfortable again with mine, remember?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"You're terrific with Sam and Lily and they love you. Not as an aunt. As their other mother. And you're not alone in this. You've got me. If _she_," he smiled, "starts crying in the middle of the night, I'm getting up to go to her, too. Okay? I'll be right there with you."

A smile tugged at Susan's lips. "I'm going to remind you of that in eight months."

"I can sign an oath in blood, if you want," he promised. "Okay?"

She nodded again. "Okay," she sighed.

His hand slipped around to rub her back. The tension seemed to have drained away. "Better?"

"Better," she agreed, leaning into him and enveloping him in a hug. "Thank you."

"Any time."

He returned the hug, feeling the rawness inside himself finally ease, as well. Not surprising. Running could help him clear his head, but it never did much for his heart. But this did wonders. Every time.

"Why don't we go back to bed?" he eventually suggested.

He felt her nod against his neck and then she pulled out of his arms.

"I'll go back to bed," she said, still nodding. "_You_ go take a shower. You stink, and I hate when you get the sheets all sweaty." He saw the smirk on her face as she turned and walked toward the staircase leading to their bedroom. "Oh, and put your shoes and socks away. In the _closet_!"

It wasn't until he'd returned to the kitchen that he noticed…

"Hey, who's going to put away your Chinese food?" he called back, but she'd already disappeared up the stairs.

Shrugging, he grabbed the carton and spooned the remaining contents into his mouth. Some of it missed the target, but David didn't pay any attention. Instead, he dropped the empty carton and fork into the sink, scooped up the shoes and his socks, and flipped the light switch as he dutifully went to do as Susan had asked.

* * *


End file.
